


When The Wolves Come Out

by Orange_Coyote



Category: The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe, Avengers Tower, Eventual Relationships, Fluff, Gen, Humor, I have no idea how to tag, Jealous!Steve, M/M, Magic, Oblivious, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Short Chapters, Slow Burn, The Avengers Are Good Bros, Tony-centric, all the fanon stereotypes probably, because this will most likely be added upon, guess i should mention it's AI jarvis not actual jarvis, i guess i like seeing him happy, i just feel weird typing it in all caps, meaning none of this is related to canon, steve smiles a lot, there's probably some OOC moments, thor isn't bad with electronics... only with toasters, tony is tony, werewolf instincts
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-01-20
Updated: 2017-08-10
Packaged: 2018-09-18 20:07:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,079
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9401030
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Orange_Coyote/pseuds/Orange_Coyote
Summary: Steve is hit with a spell that gives him a werewolf mentality. Avengers Tower is his territory, the other Avengers are pack, and Tony is his mate.Tony is left to be cuddled, growled over, and followed around. He draws the line at sharing his shower. Or does he?





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [MDDLR](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MDDLR/gifts), [chibi_luna_chan](https://archiveofourown.org/users/chibi_luna_chan/gifts).



> This started out as a random prompt (Steve being hit by a spell and feeling mate-y feelings toward Tony) but it spiraled into something that kept wanting to be longer and longer. Martha essentially helped me out whenever I was feeling stuck, so this is dedicated to her. (I swear the jealous!Steve // jealous!Tony is coming)  
> There may eventually be a second chapter to this.

Tony collapsed onto the sofa with a relieved sigh, feeling utterly exhausted after the Avengers' nasty tussle with a group of alien warlocks. Everyone else followed suit, excepting Thor who stood in the midst of them all.

"Comrades, I will disembark posthaste to my world in search of a cure to the magical malady affecting our dear Captain. I shall not return without a solution."

Tony flapped a hand. "Great. Less talking, more going."

Everyone minus Steve gave him a look. Tony looked between each face and sighed. "We thank you, friend, and wish you the best of luck with your journey. May the gods be with you."

Thor grinned, leaning down to enthusiastically ruffle Tony's hair. "Thank you, man of iron." The others bid their farewells and then Thor was gone with a swish of his cape.

"Well that was fun," Clint announced when it was apparent no one else planned on breaking the silence that had fallen following Thor's departure. He idly wiped his mouth with the back of his hand before standing. "I'm going to bed." Tony watched with an amused smile as Clint stopped in the kitchen to grab a snack on his way out. A snack sounded good right about now. And also some coffee. An entire pot of it.

"J, if you would."

"Already done, sir."

Tony loved having an extremely competent AI in moments like this. He really did. He deserved a pat on the back. And so did Jarvis. He'd have to do something about getting Jarvis a physical form at some point.

"And tea for Dr. Banner and Miss Romanov, of course."

Bruce gave his thanks. Natasha smiled softly up at the ceiling. Interacting with Jarvis was the only time Tony ever saw such a gentle expression on her face. He had a sneaking suspicion, that he could not confirm via security footage and valued his life too much to ask her about directly, that she and Jarvis talked late at night when she couldn't sleep. Where else would Jarvis have learned a Russian lullaby?

"I'll get it," Tony volunteered when the kettle began whistling and the coffee pot beeped. Steve stood as well, something Tony still wasn't quite used to even after a full hour of being the man's center of attention. He walked a full step ahead of Tony, all senses on full alert as if some unidentified threat lurked invisibly around every corner. Like Jarvis would let such a threat exist within their home in the first place. But Tony bit back a sigh and let the man do his thing. At least Steve could help him carry drinks.

Once everyone had their drinks the way they liked them (Tony's black coffee with a dash of brown sugar, Natasha's tea with milk, Bruce's tea with honey), they fell into a comfortable discussion revolving around Clint's latest obsession: Neo Pets. How he found time to save the world, keep his skill sets sharp, and care for fifteen of the things while running a somewhat illegal online shop on the side was a mystery even Jarvis couldn't solve.

After a few hours of discussing various topics, Bruce went to his room for the night. Natasha stuck around for a further half hour before she too left for the solace of her room. The quirk of her lips as she bid Steve goodnight wasn't lost on Tony, but he still had no idea exactly what it meant. In her defense, one did not often see Steven Grant Rogers curled on his side and snoozing comfortably on the lap of Anthony Edward Stark. Truly a sight to behold, in Tony's humble opinion.

He mentally debated whether waking Steve up was a good idea. Eventually his need to pee won out, so he cautiously lifted one leg to see how Steve would react. The slumbering man grunted, resettled himself, then stretched out one arm to wrap himself securely within Tony's space.

"Cap, I need to get up."

No response.

"Steve, come on." Tony pushed against the man's shoulder, with little to no visible results. "I need to pee," he whined. "If you get up I'll give you a treat." Tony sighed. He would try one last trick, and if it didn't work he would resign himself to the inevitable.

Moving slowly, Tony began running his fingers through Steve's hair. The other man hummed softly, leaning further into the touch. Tony couldn't help but smirk at how utterly adorable the man in his lap could be. "Steve."

"Hmm?" was the drowsy response.

"We've both got things to do. You need to get up. I need to pee."

Steve blinked, a flash of blue meeting Tony's fond gaze. "Yeah?"

"Yes."

"But I just got comfortable."

"Up you get."

Steve groaned in protest but relented, reluctantly sliding onto the sofa cushions with a quiet huff. "Hurry back."

Tony ignored the flush of warmth rising in his gut that accompanied those words, replying with a simple nod that seemed to assuage Steve enough. He thought over his reaction the entire way to the bathroom, as he washed his hands, and the entire walk back to the common room where Steve waited.

He was probably just a little attention deprived. After all, Rhodey had been in some undisclosed location for the last week and Pepper had been so tied up in SI meetings they hadn't had a proper catch up session in three days. Having Steve so attentive and clingy was good for his ego, but it didn't go much deeper than that. It couldn't.

Steve stood when Tony entered the room. Tony wasn't quite sure how he felt about that, but it was neither here nor there. This odd behavior wouldn't last much longer anyway. Thor was certain he could find some sort of counterspell in Asgard. When all was said and done, this would just be another crazy situation they all looked back on and laughed about.

"You don't have to do that," Tony objected. Seeing Steve being chivalrous apparently did things to his brain. Like reveal his thoughts aloud to the object of his thoughts.

"I know," Steve replied simply, shrugging. "I want to."

"Okaaaay then. Well, I'm gonna hit the sack. See you in the morning, Cap." Tony looked up where Jarvis had helpfully projected the current time onto the ceiling. "Later in the morning, I mean."

Steve's smile faltered but he wished Tony a good night before heading off to the gym or wherever Steve went to unwind after a mission. Tony didn't really understand the reaction, but figured the man was probably tired and sad to see his only form of entertainment go. Fair enough.

Tony took the elevator down to his workshop intending on getting a bit of work done before sleep came to claim him, but by the time he reached the designated floor he didn't feel up to puttering around with microscopic pieces of metal. Jarvis happily rerouted him to his bedroom instead. Something about working a little less and enjoying some relaxation a little more. Whatever. All play and no work, that was Jarvis. Tony, unfortunately, didn't have that kind of luxury. He had most everything else, but an abundance of free time was not among them.

After taking a much needed shower, brushing his teeth, and putting on the most comfortable pajamas he owned (red sweatpants lovingly worn for years and nothing else), Tony sank into his oversized bed and Egyptian cotton sheets with a pleasurable sigh of content. His mind ran a mile a minute for a while until it finally got the memo to slow down and shut up. Just as he closed his eyes, a soft knock on his door brought reality crashing back down.

"Yeah?" he asked impatiently, wondering why Jarvis hadn't informed him of this late night intruder.

A whine sounded from the other side of the door, reminding Tony of a puppy that wanted to sleep on the furniture but wasn't allowed. He reluctantly left the cozy warmth his bed provided to pad over to the door. One hand held the knob while the other lay in wait in case of an attack.

"Someone there?"

"Tony?"

The engineer frowned. "Steve?"

"Can I come in?"

Tony opened the door wide without really thinking about it. The sight that met his eyes nearly melted the last cynical remnants of his overly abused heart.

"Of course." He ushered Steve inside, directing him to the plush chairs situated on one side of the room. Once they were both sitting, he asked what was wrong. He had expected some call to action, not for Steve to look shy and embarrassed.

"I can't sleep," he admitted, his face a perfect shade of tomato red.

"Okay," Tony replied bemusedly. "That's nothing new for any of us. Why didn't you just have Jarvis initiate your secondary sleep aid?"

"I did. As well as the third, fourth, and fifth sleep aids. None of them worked."

Tony looked on slack-jawed. That had never happened before as far as Tony knew. "Shit. Sorry about that. Need me to build you something special?"

"No. I do have a favor to ask though."

"Shoot."

"Could I... Possibly... Sleep in your bed?"

"Can you say that one more time? I could have sworn you said you wanted to share my bed but that can't possibly be what you actually said."

Steve looked like he'd rather crawl into a volcano than repeat himself. But then that stubborn look of determination Tony knew and loved stole over his features. "I need to share your bed with you."

Tony, in another unbelievable occurrence, was struck speechless.

"I wouldn't ask this of you if it wasn't necessary," Steve assured. He said some other things meant to be placating, but Tony wasn't really listening.

His mind was too preoccupied with running over the words of Steve's request. And then analyzing those words and every possible consequence into oblivion.

_What would Pepper say?_ his subconscious pondered. She would say to find the reason at the bottom of all this. She would do whatever she could to help. She would make Steve as comfortable as possible.

"May I ask why?" Tony quickly added, "Not that I'd mind exactly. I'm just curious as to what brought this on."

Steve shrugged helplessly. "I don't know exactly. Maybe it's part of the spell? I just have this insatiable need to be near you all the time. My skin itches when we're too far apart, the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end when someone else gets too close to you." Steve laughed humorlessly. "This is so fucking ridiculous."

"You're telling me."

"It's fine, Tony. Don't worry about it." Steve stood to leave. A part of Tony didn't want him to go. "I'll make do. Maybe go down to the gym and tire myself out."

Tony, despite his better judgment screaming about how bad of an idea this was, heard himself say, "You can stay."

Steve's distressed expression melted into a soft, disbelieving smile. "Yeah?"

Tony shrugged one shoulder. "Sure."

"Thanks, Tony."

Tony turned away, unable to look at that expression any longer without some dire consequences. "Least I can do." He walked toward his bed, his stride maybe a little quicker than usual. Nobody needed to know what was about to happen. He had nothing to be nervous about.

Steve's footsteps sounded behind him. Tony appreciated the fact that Steve made noise for his benefit. He could have just as easily sneaked up behind Tony and made this more awkward than it needed to be.

He slipped under the covers first, moving to take over the left side of the bed. He usually slept in the middle, but taking up the entire bed like he usually did felt a bit rude.

The bed dipped as Steve settled on the other side of the mattress. He hesitantly scooted nearer to Tony, stopping with a respectable distance left between them. Tony took one look at the man's hopeful expression and knew he was screwed. He could barely deny Steve in normal circumstances. Knowing that the space between them could cause Steve physical discomfort made his next choice easy.

Without a word, Tony stretched out one hand until his fingers brushed Steve's. Steve flexed his fingers in response, curling them over Tony's with that same soft, disbelieving smile from earlier.

Tony smirked before saying, "Are you going to sleep at the foot of the bed like a good boy?"

Steve gave a squeeze of his hand and huffed a laugh. "Go to sleep, Tony."

"Gladly."

Tony forced himself to close his eyes, focus on the rhythm of his breathing. Within the span of a few breaths, Steve was fast asleep. A couple of heartbeats later, Tony followed suit.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tony wakes up the next morning, but maybe he's dreaming?

Tony awoke to a mouthful of soft hair and an armful of sleepy super soldier. He cracked open one bleary eye, the light of the room blissfully dim, partially in thanks to black out curtains and partially in thanks to Jarvis having pity on him and letting him sleep in. The alarm clock on his nightstand proclaimed the time to be just past noon. He hadn't slept that long or that peacefully in one go in... years probably. Well then.  
  
Tony briefly considered getting up to relieve his bladder (drinking coffee on a regular basis did things to a person), but one glimpse at Steve's angelic features had the genius closing his eyes and relaxing once more. A person would have to be a monster to wake Steve up when he looked like that. All soft and at peace, like Tony had only ever seen him once in the entirety of their acquaintance.  
  
The second time Tony opened his eyes, Steve was quietly slipping out of bed.  
  
"Time?"  
  
"It's going on two," Steve said at the exact moment Jarvis chimed, "The current local time is 1:53 pm."  
  
"Thanks."  
  
Tony squinted up at Steve before removing a hand from his verifiable blanket cocoon (when had that happened?) to grasp Steve's forearm. After a few insistent tugs, Steve gave in and leaned forward as if Tony's sleepy grip had any sort of real strength behind it. "Thanks," he said again. Somehow the gesture felt insanely intimate.  
  
Steve nodded, giving a standard "you're welcome" in return.  
  
Tony slackened his fingers. Steve pulled away, a small smile playing across his features. "Just gonna hit the head," he explained when Tony continued to look at him. "Be back in a sec." Then he was gone.  
  
Tony turned to lay on his back, squinting up at the ceiling as his fingers idly twisted the comforter now pushed down to his hips. When had this happened? This innate need to be close to Steve, to make him laugh and smile more than anyone else? Maybe that wayward spell had hit him too and he just hadn't noticed it at the time.  
  
Jarvis, bless him, knew a distraction was needed. The song "Never Gonna Give You Up" filtered into the room suddenly. Tony couldn't help but laugh.  
"Remember the first time you were Rick-rolled, J?"  
  
Jarvis didn't need body language to convey a healthy dose of sarcasm. His reply of, "Fondly, sir," could freeze the Eye of Sauron with no problems.  
  
Tony stretched his arms as he laughed. Time to get out of bed. Unfortunately. Sleeping with Steve curled so close to his side had left behind a lingering warmth he wasn't quite ready or willing to rid himself of.  
But the life of Tony Stark waited for no man. Not even Tony Stark himself. Lame.  
  
It felt like only a second had gone by between deciding to get out of bed and standing on his feet. A blissful minute of silence passed. Then a piercing siren rendered everything else senseless.  
  
"J?"  
  
"There seems to be an ongoing blaze in the common kitchen, sir. Sir Odinson is quite admirably attempting to extinguish it without outside assistance."  
  
"He broke the fire extinguisher again?"  
  
"Indeed."  
  
Tony shook with repressed laughter. He gave the ceiling a look before ambling out into the hallway, unsurprised to see a ruffled Clint standing in the middle of the hallway.  
"Smoke in the vents?"  
  
Clint grunted before stalking off in the opposite direction.  
  
Tony let him go without another word, turning on his heel in the direction of the main kitchen available to everyone.  
  
Thor intercepted before Tony could fully step into the disaster zone.  
  
"Comrade, I am glad you have come."  
  
"Yeah sure. What did you break this time?"  
  
Thor's expression turned sheepish, a look Tony would never get used to seeing. "I give my sincerest apologies. I seem to have set the cooking appliance aflame."  
  
"Did you use the wrong button on the toaster again?"  
  
"Yes. This strudel of the toaster is more wily than I anticipated."  
  
"No worries, Thunder buddy. I'll take care of it." Tony reached up to pat the god on the back, fighting a smile as those massive shoulders finally released the tension he'd noticed from the second Thor had seen him. "Just ask for help next time, alright? Jarvis is always around."  
  
"Of course. I often forget the spirit inhabiting your home."  
  
"I don't see how." Tony waited for a scathing quip from the AI in question but none came. Apparently he would let it slide. "How's the search for a cure going?"

"Not well," Thor admitted. "I have a new path to follow. Perhaps it will lead me to the answers we seek."

"Sounds promising."

"I hope so." The god looked at the smoldering remains of Toaster Strudel lying on the counter beside the smoking toaster and sighed. "I should have found sustenance elsewhere."

"We all have our days," Tony commiserated. Boy, did he have days. "I've gotta get back. See you around."  
  
With a jaunty wave in Thor's direction, Tony entered the elevator and requested to be dropped off at the floor of his personal workshop. He had a few things to pick up for the meeting he was already late for, so he wanted to at least have a somewhat viable excuse to give Pepper for his tardiness. Not that she would believe him, or necessarily be surprised by his late arrival. But in the life of Tony Stark these things were unavoidable.  
  
Just as the files hit the bottom of his briefcase, his Stark Phone rang with the unmistakable intro to "Pretty Woman." Looked like he'd be needing that charming excuse earlier than planned. He answered the call when his phone crooned the line, "No one can look as good as you, mercy." His favorite. Rhodey had a video of him from a drunken night of karaoke, which he threatened to make public whenever Tony became especially unruly. Unfortunately, it was a physical tape. Like they used in the 1900s. Hidden in some underground vault at the bottom of the ocean, probably.  
  
"Where are you?"  
  
"Why, hello to you too, Pep. Great hearing from you."  
  
"You're late, Tony," came the oft heard sigh of disapproval.  
  
"I know, and I promise there's a real reason this time."  
  
"Ignoring Jarvis for the sake of beauty sleep isn't acceptable."  
  
"Thor set the toaster on fire," Tony rebutted.  
  
Pepper let out a long sigh on the other end of the line. "Hurry up." Then the line went dead.  
  
"Love you too," he intoned before slipping the phone back into his pocket. Checking to ensure he had everything he needed, Tony left the office portion of his workshop. And walked smack dab into a wall of muscle.  
  
"A little birdie told me I could find you here," Steve said softly. Tony could hear the smirk in his voice from where his face kept aforementioned muscles company.  
  
"It's been a while since I've had someone looking for me in the morning."  
  
"It's afternoon, Tony."  
  
Tony extricated himself from Steve and shrugged, raising his gaze to meet that amused smirk head-on with a sardonic smile of his own. "Same difference."  
  
Steve, Tony noticed belatedly, looked almost like a surfer fresh off the waves. His skin had a slight glow to it and the scent of ocean spray, probably his soap, filled Tony's nostrils when he took a breath. The man in question had his hair pushed up in multiple directions like he'd run his fingers through it rather than a towel. Tony mentally berated himself for losing focus. Clever wit, yes. Speechless gawking, no.  
  
Steve seemed to take the opportunity to give Tony a glance over, gaze hovering around his wrists and collarbones, both exposed despite the button up shirt he wore. The best thing about being Tony Stark? He never had to iron his clothes, even though a lovely drawing from Clint implied otherwise. (Said drawing hung in the workshop above the Mark 1, an ode to what could have been had the name been a bit more literal.)  
  
"Heading to HQ?" Steve asked, his voice breaking through Tony's mental walk down memory lane.  
  
"Yeah. Happy should be outside by now. Or whoever Pepper sent to fetch me." Tony winced at his choice of words. Fetch. Oops. "You know what I mean."  
  
Steve cracked a smile that wasn't nearly big enough, in Tony's humble opinion. "Yeah, I do. Mind if I walk you down?"  
  
"I'm a big boy, Cap."  
  
"Never said you weren't," Steve replied breezily, a distinct departure from the days he would look askance at such a blatant innuendo. "Just wanted to. If that's alright."  
  
Tony figured this was one of the spell's side effects. Of course Steve would want his 'pack' to be safe. He'd do the same for Natasha or Bruce. Maybe even Thor, had the big lug still been in New York. Clint... That would be another story. "Sure. Why not?"  
  
"I was thinking of going for a run, since I slept through my usual routine. Then probably grab something for lunch at the diner down the street," Steve explained as they reached the elevator. The doors dinged open as soon as Steve stretched out his hand. "Thanks, Jarvis. After you," he said to Tony with a sweep of his arm. Tony obliged him. "Want me to pick you up anything?"  
  
Tony watched the chrome doors slide silently shut in front of him, wondering how impossible this situation would have seemed even a month ago. Not that he and Steve didn't get along, or that they didn't see one another on a regular basis. Generally they just didn't converse much, and when they did it was usually either a break down of the most recent updates to everyone's equipment or a friendly debate over Star Wars versus Star Trek. Sometimes Steve would scold him for doing something stupidly reckless during a mission. Never had Steve offered to bring him a late lunch.  
  
"Tony? You with me?"  
  
"Sorry. Lunch sounds nice, yeah."  
  
"Your usual, I'm guessing?"  
  
Tony nodded, too busy thinking over the last twenty four hours to question how Steve knew what his usual was. Finally the elevator opened into the private lobby, where Tony took a left to exit out the side door of the building. He was not in the correct mindset to be dealing with paparazzi.  
  
Steve followed him out, saying something about the diner having the best meatloaf he'd ever had (and that was saying something), when a male voice Tony didn't recognize called for his attention. Tony jerked himself into Anthony Stark, Millionaire Playboy Philanthropist mode, all the while inwardly steaming that some random pap had managed to track him down after all.  
  
"Mr. Stark," the voice called out again. This time Tony actually looked at the guy. He wore a dark pinstripe suit, black oxfords, and a white necktie. Business attire. Maybe not a pap? His blond hair and slight British accent made something click in Tony's mind and he vaguely remembered Pepper mentioning this guy before. Some man from the U.K. who was fascinated by the company and wanted to pay a visit to HQ, and maybe invest some capital if he liked what he saw. Blah, blah, blah. Usually he left it to Pep to entertain potential investors and the like, but apparently this guy had asked for him specifically and wouldn't take no for an answer. And what with the amount of materials (and general destruction) the Avengers went through on a regular basis, a bit more money in the company was never really a bad thing.  
  
"Gregory, wasn't it?" Tony asked cautiously, but made himself sound more disinterested than unsure. He had a reputation to uphold, after all.  
  
The man lit up at Tony's recognition. "Indeed. I'm surprised you've heard of me."  
  
Tony met the man halfway to the black sedan parked conspicuously at the curb, Steve by his side. Tony could have sworn he heard something like a growl escape the soldier's lips, but he'd probably just imagined it. "My boss likes to keep me informed," Tony replied succinctly. No need to give the guy a bigger ego.  
  
"Your boss? Are you not your own boss?"  
  
Tony answered as he shook the proffered hand held out before him, "Not for a while now."  
  
Gregory apparently had either no sense of personal space or no shame because he held on for a full minute before releasing his grasp. Tony wiped said hand against his trousers to rid himself of hand sweat.  
  
Gregory laughed, like Tony was a stand up comedian at the Apollo telling the best joke the world had ever heard. "You jest, surely."  
  
Tony would have told the man exactly how serious he was, along with a full lecture regarding assumed gender roles that would make Pepper proud, but a gentle tug on his elbow reminded him of his own lack of manners. "Anyway, this is Steve. Steve, Gregory. He's interested in a tour of Stark Industries and I drew the short straw."  
  
Steve took Gregory's hand, giving a firm shake and a polite, "Nice to meet you."  
  
"Likewise," Gregory replied. He shook his hand out behind his back once Steve let go, causing Tony to withhold a huff of laughter. Steve totally did that on purpose. He'd bake him a cake later. Or order one. Same thing.  
  
"Guess we should be going," Tony reluctantly admitted. He was so not looking forward to spending the next hour in traffic with a douche Brit. Not that he had anything against Brits. He just had a bad feeling about this particular one. The kind of vibes that said he'd be hearing a lot about Gregory and not very much else.  
  
"I'll bring your lunch to your office, sound good?"  
  
Steve, bless him. "That would be great. Thanks." Two cakes. One wouldn't be enough for his heightened metabolism anyway.  
  
"Of course. See you later, Tony." And then another impossible thing happened: Steve leaned down and hugged him. A lingering, more than the customary ten second, sort of hug that left Tony breathless. Steve smiled at him when he broke the embrace, completely ignoring Gregory as he walked away.  
  
What. Was. That?  
  
"Shall we go?"  
  
Tony stared after Steve's back until he melted into the crowd of people bustling down the avenue. He told himself Steve was just being nice, keeping Gregory on his toes and in turn protecting Tony from any possible annoyance. If the man thought he and Steve were... something... then maybe he'd back off. Not that he and Steve were anything. Other than friends and teammates, of course. Friends hugged sometimes. No big deal.  
  
Tony's inner Pepper chose that moment to flash a big red alarm, reminding him of his imminent evisceration if he didn't get a move on. He shook himself from within his inner turmoil, compartmentalizing his current predicament to be dealt with later.  
"Yeah. After you."  
  
As the car sped off into traffic, Tony couldn't help but wonder if he smelled like the ocean breeze too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> a wise friend told me "write whatever makes you happy" ... this story has totally taken the wheel so expect more fluff  
> can you tell I suck at exposition? and love dialogue? because I do  
> martha idk if this counts as jealous!steve but it's a start at least


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tony finally gets away from Gregory long enough to have that lunch date with Steve. But it's not a date.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WHEN DID THIS GET SO MANY KUDOS???????? I'm so grateful to you all!  
> anyway hi I'm back from the dead zone  
> I made myself sit down and write this out because all you wonderful people deserve better  
> (hopefully it's not horrible. trying to get back into the swings of things.)

Tony greeted Pepper with his usual apologetic smile, garnering her usual eye roll in return, as he took his seat at the table mid-conference. She should really just let him Skype in at meetings. Everything would be less stressful for everyone involved. But, alas, that dream was not meant to be.

He listened to the man rambling at the front of the room about stock values for all of five minutes before his mind started to wander of its own accord. He was thankful Gregory had been strategically placed on the opposite side of the room. One more minute of his company would most likely drive Tony to rash actions no one would approve of.

Eventually Pepper gave him the look that said "give a Tony Stark speech and you can go," so Tony jumped to his feet and obliged her, being sure to reiterate some of the points previously made to assure everyone present he had indeed been paying attention. Some people doubted his multitasking capabilities. He answered a couple of questions, gave a salute, and left the room as quickly as decorum allowed.

"Sweet freedom," he murmured, one safely outside the range of Pepper's hearing. Ears like an elephant, that one had, and the memory to match. It wasn't that he didn't like being updated on the state of his company. He just preferred the solace and comfort of his workshop to being judged and graded by people he didn't really care for.

"Anthony, you left so quickly I nearly missed you." Because apparently they were on a first-name basis now. Tony should have paid more attention when Pepper gave him the initial rundown. Not knowing the Brit's last name made it tough to be professionally formal enough to give the guy a hint. Mainly that Tony did not enjoy his company and would rather be on a deserted island with a coconut phone.

He turned to face the other man anyway, attempting to keep a visible look of distaste off his features. He'd dealt with worse. "I do that," Tony offered as explanation. "Things to do, people to avoid. The work of Tony Stark never ends."

"I'm sure," Gregory replied, his tone mirthful. "Have you eaten? You must be famished."

Tony knew a proposition when he heard one. Hell, he'd made plenty of his own over the years.  _Initiate evasive_ _maneuvers_ , his mind screamed.

"I'd love to, but, unfortunately, I have something that needs my immediate attention. Are you hungry? I can have one of the interns take you down to the cafeteria. More like a buffet, really. One of those international deals. Happy's idea, actually. Smart man." Tony waved one hand maniacally above his head until he caught the eye of one of the secretaries up front. He made a few hand signals which, thankfully, the woman comprehended. After a quick nod of acknowledgement she picked up the phone and spoke hurriedly into the receiver, hopefully calling for an intern to come to Tony's rescue. She deserved a raise.

"I couldn't imagine --"

"How about a tour of the facility?" Tony interjected. Did he sound desperate? "I mean, that  _is_ essentially why you're here. Not to socialize with an old hag like me. I'm a terrible tour guide but I can set you up with someone." At this point he began to vainly hope some catastrophe would befall New York City that only the Avengers could tackle. "You know what? Here," Tony pulled a guest pass from one of the nearby desks, "take this. It'll let all the people know you have permission to be wandering around. I've got to go handle that thing I mentioned, but someone will be with you shortly."

Tony turned in the opposite direction, fully set on escape, but managed only one measly step toward evasion before manners forced him to pause. There was a hand on his shoulder that didn't belong to him, meaning it had to belong to Gregory. Tony didn't bother turning back around.

"Anthony, what's the rush? Why don't we have lunch beforehand? It would be a late one, admittedly, but nonetheless I would enjoy the opportunity to pick your brain a bit."

 _I'm sure you would,_ Tony thought blithely as a mental image of himself being strapped to a metal table with Brit Douche standing over him in a lab coat a la Frankenstein flitted through his mind.  _No thanks._

Were all the interns of Stark Industries otherwise detained? Tony's savior should have arrived by now. Apparently he needed to create a position entirely for pulling himself out of awkward situations. Make sure they were paid well for their service. Rhodey would throw a fit. "Where's my paycheck?" he would cry. "I've been saving your ass longer than half of these kids have been alive!"

"Mr. Stark?" came a tinny voice from somewhere behind Tony. In that moment it sounded more like a chorus of angels than an adolescent boy. Thank fuck.  _Finally._

Tony turned toward the boy, addressing him and essentially ignoring Gregory's presence altogether. "Yes?"

"Mr. Rogers is in the building, sir. He says he brought lunch?" Tony couldn't help but smile at a bit at the intern's uncertainty. Wasn't every day, or any day at all, that Steve came to SI.

"Yes, of course. Thank you..." What was the kid's name again? Gangly thing, curly hair, glasses. Mom who was a homemaker, Dad who worked down in the sewers for the city. "TJ?" Tony tested cautiously.

The kid's eyes lit up, so Tony guessed he remembered the right name after all. "You're welcome, sir. Should I tell Mr. Rogers you'll be right up?"

"He's at my office already?" A nod. "Yeah, tell him I'll be there in two shakes." Tony slipped himself out of Gregory's grasp, which had loosened throughout the exchange, and moved to give the kid a handshake. "Thank you," he said as he looked TJ straight in the eye. He flicked a dismissive glance toward Gregory and added, "Take care of our guest, will you?"

TJ's eyes widened, probably because of the twenty dollar bill Tony had just palmed him, but he nodded and promised to have the man safely delivered to his destination.

Tony tossed a careless farewell in old Greg's general direction, charting his course for the private elevator that led up to his personal office. He could feel the Brit's disbelieving stare and had to stop himself from fist-pumping the air in self-satisfaction. That could not have gone better, really. TJ had a thank you basket in his future.

The ride up in the elevator to the twenty-third floor seemed to last only a minute with the way Tony's thoughts swirled. Steve brought lunch. For the two of them.  _Just_ the two of them. He knew he was being ridiculous, reading into things. Cap couldn't help himself. The spell made him need to spend time with Tony. Sooner or later this would all be over and things would go back to normal. No more bed sharing or work lunches or hand holding. And that was  _fine,_ Tony told himself. He hated being the center of attention anyway.

 _Yeah, sure,_ argued a voice that sounded eerily like Rhodey.  _You **hate** attention._

Well, Tony reasoned as he walked down the short corridor, he hated the bad kind. The invasive paparazzi kind. The sleazy slimeball kind. But Steve's attention? That wasn't so bad.

Tony rounded the corner of the hallway, mentally telling the Rhodey voice to stop being so damn right all the time.

The sight of Steve standing in the filtered sunlight of the floor to ceiling window beside Tony's office door stopped the engineer in his tracks. He held a paper bag in one hand, the other pressed lightly against the tinted glass as he looked out over the busy Manhattan streets. From this vantage point he could only see half of Steve's face, but that didn't keep Tony from staring. The blue of his eye reflected the light in a way that reminded Tony of the ocean.

"Tony?"

Oh. Fuck. Had Steve caught him staring!? How long had he been staring?!

"Are you alright?"

Tony shook his head to clear his mind, then quickly switched to nodding in case Steve took it to mean he _wasn't_ alright. "Yeah, I'm fine. Just lost in thought for a second. You know how I can get."

Steve smiled softly at that. "Don't I ever. Long meeting?"

"Something like that." Tony sighed at the memory of that second of discomfort when Gregory had touched his shoulder. "Let's just say I'll be glad when my service as SI ambassador to visiting British investors is over." He moved to unlock the door to his office, brandishing a gold-plated skeleton key. Really the key was superfluous and didn't affect his security in the slightest, but it had been a gag gift from Rhodey and he couldn't let it go to waste. Everyone humored him when he installed the old-fashioned door that year.

Steve walked over to stand beside him, stiffening once he reached Tony's shoulder. Tony was about to ask what was wrong, but the tension passed over in a flicker of an instant as Steve relaxed and smiled to himself. Okay then.

"Welcome to my humble abode," Tony said with a grand wave of his arm to showcase the room his own father had once inhabited years ago. Well, not the  _exact_ same room, obviously, but Tony's own little homage to it. He had mixed feelings where Howard was concerned, to put it lightly, but when the decorator had originally asked if Tony had any specific requests for the room... images of his father's office came unbidden: the mahogany desk with the brown leather wingback chair set regally behind it, the overflowing bookshelves, the personal bar in the corner, the landscape art prints his mother had picked out at various estate sales and charity auctions. Tony had said the words aloud, describing his memories without even realizing he was doing it. The end result left him with a sense of closure, somehow, so he'd kept it this way ever since.

Steve entered the room, placing their lunch on the coffee table positioned in the middle of the room. Then he walked the perimeter, taking in the various paintings on the walls as well as the clutter spanning the bookshelves that Tony had come to love. Gifts from clients, photographs with diplomats, an old paperweight that once belonged to Maria. Odds and ends of wire or metal he'd tinkered with in his spare time but had never thrown away.

"This is my favorite," Steve remarked, his hand softly tracing the frame of a photo consisting of DUM-E's first successful attempt at putting out a fire in Tony's MIT-era workshop. Tony himself could be seen in the corner, clapping. He remembered Rhodey letting out a supportive "WHOOP" as he snapped the photo.

"It's a good one," Tony agreed fondly. "I still think he posed that way on purpose. Even bots know their good side."

Steve chuckled. Tony relished the sound. He was screwed and he might as well enjoy this easy camaraderie with Steve while it lasted.

While Steve continued his perusal of the room, Tony peeked into the lunch bag like a kid peeling back the wrapper of the coolest looking Christmas present. Unencumbered by nerves, since Steve's attention was currently focused elsewhere, Tony filched a french fry and gracelessly stuffed it into his mouth. Delicious. He glanced up to check Steve's progress, only to find he'd been caught red-handed.

Steve merely smiled at him, replacing the hardback copy of  _Gulliver's Travels_ onto the bookcase in its rightful place between  _Moby Dick_ and  _Alice In Wonderland_.

"That hungry, huh?"

Tony shrugged meekly. Swallowing, he added, "A little."

Steve took the incentive to lay out their meal, swatting Tony's hands away when he tried to help. Tony took the hint and sat down, pouring them each a glass of water from the decanter set on the table. Two styrofoam containers were presented along with a small circular dish filled with fries, the aroma alone already causing Tony's mouth to salivate with anticipation. Steve pushed one container across to him, plastic knife and fork laid neatly and invitingly on top. He placed the fries within easy reach for them both, then pulled the remaining container in front of him where he sat opposite Tony.

Steve bowed his head for a moment, Tony watching wordlessly. Steve's Irish Catholic upbringing emerged every now and then, Tony joked in his head. Steve raised his gaze after a few seconds, lifting his chin in Tony's direction with a small grin. "Bon appetit."

"Grazie." Tony excitedly lifted the lid of his dish, sighing happily when linguine doused in white sauce with chunks of chicken greeted his eager eyes. Chicken alfredo held a special place in his heart, so sue him. He picked up his fork and dug in, the fact that he hadn't eaten anything in the past twelve hours hitting him hard. Belatedly he realized he probably looked like a crazed dog capitalizing on an unsupervised steak dinner. But at the moment he didn't really care.

After satisfying the initial wave of hunger, Tony hazarded to look up at Steve. Who happened to be chewing at his food at a normal pace like a normal person. Tony could almost see the teasing remark poised on the thip of that smug smirk.

"Before you say anything," Tony said warily, "you ought to remember who fixes your armor."

"I'd hardly call it armor."

"I gave you that enhanced shield and I can take it away," Tony threatened, feeling a bit like a soccer mom at the ends of her rope with an unruly son.

"You wouldn't though."

"You've got me there, Cap. Can't have any harm coming to America's Sweetheart."

Steve rolled his eyes in the way only Steve could manage. "How was work?"

"Aside from being late to the meeting, it all ran smoothly. Remind me to send TJ a gift basket," Tony added for Jarvis' benefit. "What do kids like nowadays? Video games? Passes to the water park?"

"I'll look into his personnel file right away."

"Thanks, J."

"Who's TJ?" Steve inquired curiously. Though, to be fair, all of Steve inquires were based in curiosity.

"An intern. Got me out of a tough spot. Old Greg wanted to do lunch, can you believe that? Pfft. As if." Tony noticed a flash of annoyance wash over Steve's face. Bless him, that man's empathy stretched for miles in every direction. "Told him I had better plans." He paused to take another bite of pasta. "So much better."

"Frank and Diane say hello, by the way."

Steve had this endearing habit where he talked to the owners of virtually every family run restaurant he went to regularly, got to know them a bit, and made a point of keeping up with their lives. Seeing as Frankie's was just a block or so from the tower, it was safe to say they all went there often enough to warrant such a camaraderie in Steve's books. Their daughter, Frankie, had a birthday card signed by all of them that she kept framed in her bedroom. If Frank was to be believed. The man had a knack for tall tales so who knew.

"I'll have to make time to swing by," Tony conceded. "I miss Diane fawning over how I don't eat enough and Frank doing his best horrible impressions of my witty comebacks."

They ate in companionable silence after that, more focused on finishing the fries before they ended up cold and essentially inedible. Clint asserted they tasted just as good if reheated in the toaster over, but he was the only heathen among them to truly believe that blasphemy. In the meantime, Steve ate his way through three cheeseburgers while Tony polished off the remainder of his pasta.

It was nice, just spending time with Steve minus impending doom, talking team strategies, or withstanding an upbraiding debrief from Fury. This was something Tony could get used to. Hypothetically.

"This is nice," he said aloud, at the exact same time Steve said, "So about sharing your bed?"

Tony nearly choked on the gulp of water he had drank a mere second before. "Sorry. What?"

"Are you okay?" Those blue eyes frilled with concern.

"Yeah, no," Tony assured through watery eyes. "No Heimlich needed here. But. What?" Tony wanted to slap himself.  _Words, Stark. Use words._ "What was that about bed sharing?"

Steve shrugged, unapologetic for nearly killing Tony. Not to be dramatic. "I figured we ought to talk about it. Get it out in the open."

"Is finding you in my bed going to become a regular occurrence?"

"It might," Steve muttered shyly. Was he nervous? Embarrassed? Ashamed? Tony couldn't really tell. "Look, Tony." There it was, finally making an appearance: his Captain America voice. "I know this isn't exactly... normal."

"I'd say," he snorted.

"But," Steve continued, his voice steely with determination to get through his next set of words, "I think it would be best to just accommodate this... abnormality, so to speak... while it lasts. So if you could take this seriously for a second, and sincerely consider if sharing your bed would be something you'd be comfortable doing for however long it takes to find some reversal spell, I would greatly appreciate that."

In any other situation, with any other person, Tony would joke his way around the topic. But the tension in Steve's eyes, the miniscule glint of fear and discomfort, bade Tony to hold his tongue. "Steve, of course I'm taking this seriously. This is your well-being on the line here." He watched gratefully as the fear eased out of Steve's eyes, even though the discomfort remained. Small victories. "Honestly, sharing a bed with you would be straight out of teenaged me's wildest dreams. Well, the tamer ones. That's irrelevant. My  _point_ is I would be honored to take one for the team. Could've been worse," he shrugged, mischief tugging at the corners of his mouth. "Could've been Clint."

Steve barked a laugh at that, garnering a genuine grin from Tony. "Tsk, tsk, Cap. 'Tis not well-suited of you to encourage ragging on a fellow Avenger. isn't that setting a bad example? You're a worldwide role model for morality, you know."

Steve wiped a stray tear of mirth from his eye, levelling Tony with an unimpressed stare. "You're funny," he commented, deadpan.

"I know."

Steve groaned in annoyance, but a good-natured smile remained firmly on his face. He looked down at his watch, because he refused to be rid of the old thing despite Tony's pestering (he'd even turned down a Rolex! which now laid somewhere within Clint's room), and moved to stand. Tony followed suit, rising to his feet.

"Guess I should be going," the super soldier said. He gathered the debris left in the wake of their meal, ignoring Tony's assertions he could handle it, and tossed it all back into its original home. Tony eyed the bag wearily. Stupid bag. "We've been up here for a couple hours," Steve remarked, drawing Tony's gaze. "I'm surprised no one called in or barged up here with some emergency for you to handle."

Tony shrugged. He couldn't exactly say "well no one bothered us because I explicitly told them not to, or else," so he said the next best thing. "Probably another slow day at the office."

"I find it hard to believe any day in the life of Tony Stark is 'slow,' but I suppose."

Tony grinned. "You don't know _everything_ about me, Cap. Still have some surprises up my sleeves."

"As long as one of them isn't wetting the bed, I'll survive. Bye, Tony. See you at home."

While Tony internally battled a whirlpool of utter astonishment, amusement, and an odd sense of warmth in his chest, Steve took his leave. Tony watched him go, the office door clicking shut softly.

What  _was_ that? Did that truly just happen?

"J?"

"Yes, Sir?"

"Did Steve just insinuate that I wet the bed?"

"No, Sir. I believe he was simply asking if you did."

Again, Tony felt a rising sense of disbelief toward current aspects of his life.

"Shall I inform him his worries are unfounded?" Jarvis inquired politely, a hint of pure mirth tangible in his tone.

"Nah," Tony decided as he leaned back in his chair, shuffling through some files Pepper had left for him to look over. "We'll let him find out on his own."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> couldn't resist adding another note  
> it took me a few days to type this up from the day i actually wrote it out but here we are! fun filler chapter for all  
> steve is so cute and i love him  
> originally this chapter went in a different direction but since it was accidentally deleted and i had to start from scratch, this is what came out


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